


It's An Emotion

by panpinecone



Category: It Conquered The World (1956)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Arguing, Bad Sex, Kink Shaming, Masturbation Interruptus, Multi, Pegging, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Incompatibility, Strained Relationships, Tentacle Monsters, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 01:56:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9856775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panpinecone/pseuds/panpinecone
Summary: Tom's interests have always been unusual. Even so, some things are just too strange for Claire to understand.





	

It was an accident, he hadn't meant to find it.

But once he had...

Well, it was impossible to forget about it. And once the realization that it could be adapted to fit his own needs dawned on him...

By that point, any hopes he'd had of forgetting about it were well and truly lost.

And that was how Tom found himself looking through a pile of his wife's catalogs, on a desperate quest to find a dildo to call his own.

He'd known for a while that Claire hadn't been satisfied with their marriage, and despite his best wishes, they seemed to grow further apart with each passing day. She was bound to look elsewhere to satisfy her needs, and though the thought pained him, there was simply too much going on during the day for him to work on their nights.

He was beyond certain that every hour of research brought him closer and closer to his goal of finding— _communicating with_ —extraterrestrial life. It existed, he knew it did, but the problem was establishing contact. As soon as he did, everything would change.

And if the aliens just happened to have tentacles, well, that was all the better.

The fascination came from as far back as he could remember. There was simply something about tentacles that never failed to capture his attention. He'd studied a wide array of fields and subjects, and anytime tentacles or anything like them came into play, he always found himself rapt with attention.

Even so, there was always something missing. It went without saying that tentacles, being appendages, would be attached to something. But octopuses? Squids? Even the experimental machines he'd seen colleagues working on? None of them quite fit what he was looking for.

And so it had been for years.

And so it might have continued for the rest of his days.

But now he had Claire's assertiveness to thank for his latest revelation. In some ways, their faltering marriage could be said to have brought them both what they most needed, though it was likely for the best that Claire remained unaware of that particular conclusion.

He'd tell her eventually, just not now.

Now was for filling out the catalog form.

 

* * *

 

Thankfully, he was home when the package arrived.

Claire's initial curiosity about it was only barely assuaged by his noncommittal answers of “It's for an experiment,” and “You'll see, it's a surprise.” All the same, she declined to interrogate him beyond that, though he didn't miss the glint of suspicion in her eye as soon as he suggested that she spend the afternoon catching up with Joan.

But despite those odds, she still called Joan and arranged to be over within the next twenty minutes.

Claire could be so understanding, it was no wonder Tom had fallen in love with her all those years ago.

She hung up the phone, got herself ready, then departed the house with a kiss to his cheek. “I'll try to be back before three,” she said.

“No, it's alright, dear. Take your time,” he reassured her.

That glint again.

And then she was out the door.

He drummed his fingers on the couch and studiously counted down the minutes.

One.

Two.

Three...

...Five...

...Ten.

That was safe enough, wasn't it?

He practically jumped from his seat and made a beeline to where he'd put the package, ripping it open as quickly as he could manage; he only had a few hours to figure out how to fully enjoy its contents.

His breath caught in his throat as he slowly pulled out the closest thing to a tentacle the catalogs had offered: Soft, pliable, and tapered. It was also a bit too pink for his taste, but he could deal with that.

All in all, he knew full well that it was the closest he'd ever gotten to living out his fantasies, and he rushed to set everything up.

Within moments, he was lying naked on his and Claire's bed, newly washed dildo in one hand and a small vial of lube in the other. He had _some_ idea of what to do, but still found his breath hitching in discomfort and anticipation as he stretched himself out.

It took entirely too long in his opinion, but at last he felt capable of pushing in the dildo— no, the tentacle. He had to get into the right frame of mind.

Gripping the tentacle by the base, he lazily began running it over his body, telling himself he'd been captured by an intelligent, inquisitive being whose long appendages were in the process of exploring his human form, sliding across the expanse of his torso and prodding wherever it deemed appropriate.

They were in a dark area, free from prying eyes, and he could hardly make out any of the being's features. All he knew was that it loomed over him and possessed a batch of prehensile tentacles, which was more than enough for his satisfaction.

Hand shaking with excitement, he dragged the tentacle down his stomach, letting it brush past his heated member and travel all the way down to his opening, circling there a moment before slithering its way inside.

His breath shakily left him, hand stilling in surprise at the new sensation. Unwilling to compromise his immersion, he gave himself mere seconds before pushing the rest of the tentacle in. Once it was snug against his ass and refused to go any further, he pulled his hand away to caress his own torso, moving his other to accompany it as well.

The tentacled creature had breached him. It held him down, hands useless against his own body. There was no means for him to fight back even if he wanted to, and all that was left was for him to fully submit to the being's probing of his insides.

As he reached back down to grasp the tentacle, he felt his dick jump at the brief brush of his wrist, already leaking profusely. Tom ignored it, mind set only on what the creature fucking him would do.

Ever so slowly, the tentacle pulled out, emptying him bit by bit. Then, all at once, it smoothly slid back in, effortlessly entering him once more.

Again, it left him. And again, it reentered.

Time and time again, the hulking being penetrated him, thorough in its study of the human it had managed to capture, and Tom—like any decent object of curiosity—simply lay there and let himself be ravaged, one hand trailing frantically over his heated skin, low moans leaving his throat with every few thrusts of the tentacle into his ass.

He was close, he could feel it, hand finally trailing down to pump his aching dick as the tentacle positively drove into him—

A high-pitched scream stopped his movements cold. Eyes flying open, he sat up and found himself met with the sight of a horror-struck Claire. The hands at her mouth seemed to be the only thing keeping any further screams at bay, and before Tom could say a word, she took a step back out of the room and yanked the door shut.

 

* * *

 

It took a lot of explaining, but things eventually returned to a semblance of what they used to be.

Claire never spoke of the incident beyond that first day, even if Tom could tell it passed through her mind on a constant basis. Despite that, she kept to herself, much as she always had, and tried to pretend that she'd never caught Tom in the middle of...

Whatever she told herself she'd seen.

For his part, Tom found that the entire ordeal put somewhat of a damper on things. He'd since used the toy to reach completion a few times, none of them anywhere near as intense as what he'd been experiencing on that initial use.

Of course, he also had to admit that the situation was at least a bit embarrassing. He wouldn't mind that in and of itself, if not for the effect it had on Claire. She was very clearly troubled by what she'd witnessed, and Tom could sense their marriage sinking at a frankly alarming rate.

But then he had an idea.

Why not kill two birds with one stone?

It came as no surprise that she acted as shocked as she did the first time he suggested it. Loud gasp, vicious glare, the works. In all honesty, he couldn't really blame her. He _had_ just brought up something nearly unheard of in polite society, though he'd been hoping for a bit more openness to the idea.

And so he insisted.

“Claire, please. It would mean the world to me, and I'm sure it would be good for both of us. Our relationship would be so much stronger. If you just gave it a chance—”

“I am not putting that— that _thing_ on! Not on me and not... _Not in you._ ”

“But isn't this what you've been wanting, darling? For us to grow closer, try new things, share our nights together like we used to?”

“Not like this, Tom. This is sick. How could you even think of such a thing?”

“Well, Claire, I think you're being a little unfair. You've used a dildo yourself and—”

“You're impossible!”

Tom was well aware of how stubborn he could be, but he was equally as aware of how upset Claire might get if he pressed the topic. Given those circumstances, he chose to abandon the matter.

For a time.

Several days passed before he mentioned it again, and just as before, Claire's response was less than enthusiastic.

 _Much_ less.

The subject was dropped, life went on, and their relationship continued deteriorating.

Tom found himself beginning to give up hope that Claire would ever accept his interests. She was headstrong and steady in her beliefs, and if she'd decided she'd rather live in a strained, unhappy marriage than fuck her husband with his tentacle dildo, then that was how things would go.

Fortunately for him, one day she brought up the topic on her own.

“I've been thinking about what you said. About us. And about your... _Fetishes_ ,” she spat out, voice stilted as though she'd never before uttered the word. “I do want to be closer to you, but you're a very strange man, Tom.”

She glanced his way and, seeing that she had his full attention, continued, “I can't imagine what you see in it. I've tried and I've tried but I just can't. Still, I do want you to be happy. For our marriage to be better. So I've thought it over and... I'll do it.”

Tom stayed quiet, unsure if he'd understood right.

“I'll do it, Tom. I'll use that thing on you just the way you want it, and I'll do it because I love you.”

To say he was overjoyed would be an understatement. Finally Claire had agreed to try something truly, fundamentally _new_. To _explore_. He could introduce her to a realm of possibilities and they could reach their goals _together_.

He kissed her, slow and deep, trying to convey all of his gratitude through it. “I promise you'll enjoy it too,” he murmured.

She gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

 

* * *

 

It took some effort, but he used what few connections he had to pull some strings and acquire himself a pair of what were essentially overgrown panties.

The front of them was meant to securely hold a dildo in place, and after successfully manhandling his prized tentacle in, he happily announced to Claire that he had plans for them that night.

He was rewarded with another not-quite-smile, but didn't let it sour his mood.

She'd come to see the fun in it, he was positive.

 

* * *

 

“So I just have to... Put it in?”

“That's right, dear, I already got myself ready for you.”

Dismay briefly crossed her face before it turned into a look of steely determination.

“...Oh, alright. I suppose I'll just get started then.”

Not the best way to set the mood, but Tom wasn't about to complain, not when that exquisite sensation of getting stretched by the tentacle began soothing his thoughts. It gradually pushed in, filling him up completely, and unaided by his own hand, no less.

He let out a pleasured moan, certain that having someone else in control made all the difference. He definitely needed to find a way to thank Claire later, maybe a bouquet of roses or—

Evidently unaware that his muscles might need time to adjust, she'd started thrusting into him at a brisk yet steady pace, quietly panting as she fucked him into the mattress. In all honesty, he didn't mind, as it only added to his fantasy of getting used by a creature unaware of normal human limitations. Claire was truly very good at it, she—

No, no. He had to _focus_. The time to thank Claire would come later. For now, he needed to live out his wildest imaginings.

He was being fucked by a great, big creature, one who'd captured him and now loomed imposingly as he went limp in its tentacled clutches...

“Wr- wrap your arms around me...”

A pause, and then he found himself in a heated grip, appendages winding around his sides and up his back, all while that speedy tentacle carried on plowing away at him, wringing moan after moan from his lungs.

His hands clenched at the bed, dick leaking profusely against the extra weight atop him. He could do nothing but let himself be defiled by the powerful being. Its tentacles had fully enveloped him, wrapping around his torso and fucking the very breath out of him.

The creature was so strong, so unknowable. It had him at its mercy and yet chose to test his limits, all to satisfy its curiosity.

It was _interested_ in him. Learning about him, studying him. Perhaps when all was said and done, they could... Study each other? Together?

He came with a moan louder than all those before it, releasing himself between his own belly and Claire's, all his muscles going lax.

She slowed her movements to a stop and they both took a moment to collect themselves, panting in near unison. After a minute, she pulled her arms out from under him, setting them down at her sides but otherwise remaining immobile.

The dildo was still buried deep within him.

A few more minutes passed and she sat up, looking down at Tom and saying, “I hope you enjoyed that.”

“I did. Thank you so much,” he rasped out, reaching out a hand and pulling her down for a tender kiss.

Apparently satisfied with his answer, she nodded and shifted away, pulling out the tentacle as she went. She silently stared down at it for just a bit too long, then commented, “I'm going to go shower.”

“Sure thing, honey,” he replied, already feeling sleep tugging at the edges of his consciousness. The experience had left him satisfied in ways he hadn't even thought possible, and now all he needed was some rest.

Well, there _was_ one other thing.

If the fantasy had played out so wonderfully, then the real thing could only be better, right?


End file.
